Majjhima Nikāya (Middle-Length Discourses)

The Buddha Kassapa had as chief supporter in Vebhaliṅga a potter named Ghaṭīkāra. Ghaṭīkāra had a dear friend named Jotipāla, a student. Then Ghaṭīkāra addressed Jotipāla, ‘Come, dear Jotipāla, let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ When he said this, Jotipāla said to him, ‘Enough, dear Ghaṭīkāra. What’s the use of seeing that shaveling, that fake ascetic?’ For a second time … and a third time, Ghaṭīkāra addressed Jotipāla, ‘Come, dear Jotipāla, let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ For a third time, Jotipāla said to him, ‘Enough, dear Ghaṭīkāra. What’s the use of seeing that shaveling, that fake ascetic?’ ‘Well then, dear Jotipāla, let’s take some bathing cleanser and go to the river to bathe.’ ‘Yes, dear,’ replied Jotipāla. So that’s what they did.

Then Ghaṭīkāra addressed Jotipāla, ‘Dear Jotipāla, the Buddha Kassapa’s monastery is not far away. Let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ When he said this, Jotipāla said to him, ‘Enough, dear Ghaṭīkāra. What’s the use of seeing that shaveling, that fake ascetic?’ For a second time … and a third time, Ghaṭīkāra addressed Jotipāla, ‘Dear Jotipāla, the Buddha Kassapa’s monastery is not far away. Let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ For a third time, Jotipāla said to him, ‘Enough, dear Ghaṭīkāra. What’s the use of seeing that shaveling, that fake ascetic?’

Then Ghaṭīkāra grabbed Jotipāla by the skirt-hem and said, ‘Dear Jotipāla, the Buddha Kassapa’s monastery is not far away. Let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ So Jotipāla undid his skirt-hem and said to Ghaṭīkāra, ‘Enough, dear Ghaṭīkāra. What’s the use of seeing that shaveling, that fake ascetic?’

Then Ghaṭīkāra grabbed Jotipāla by the hair of his freshly-washed head and said, ‘Dear Jotipāla, the Buddha Kassapa’s monastery is not far away. Let’s go to see the Blessed One Kassapa, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha. For I deem it holy to see that Blessed One.’ Then Jotipāla thought, ‘Oh lord, how incredible, how amazing, how this potter Ghaṭīkāra, though of lowly birth, should presume to grab me by the hair of my freshly-washed head! This must be no ordinary matter.’ He said to Ghaṭīkāra, ‘You’d even milk it to this extent, dear Ghaṭīkāra?’ ‘I even milk it to this extent, dear Jotipāla. For that is how holy I deem it to see that Blessed One.’ ‘Well then, dear Ghaṭīkāra, release me, we shall go.’

Then Ghaṭīkāra the potter and Jotipāla the student went to the Buddha Kassapa. Ghaṭīkāra bowed and sat down to one side, but Jotipāla exchanged greetings with the Buddha and sat down to one side. Ghaṭīkāra said to the Buddha Kassapa, ‘Sir, this is the student Jotipāla, my dear friend. Please teach him the Dhamma.’ Then the Buddha Kassapa educated, encouraged, fired up, and inspired Ghaṭīkāra and Jotipāla with a Dhamma talk. Then they got up from their seat, bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha Kassapa, keeping him on their right, before leaving.

Then Jotipāla said to Ghatīkāra, ‘Dear Ghaṭīkāra, you have heard this teaching, so why don’t you go forth from the lay life to homelessness?’ ‘Don’t you know, dear Jotipāla, that I provide for my blind old parents?’ ‘Well then, dear Ghaṭīkāra, I shall go forth from the lay life to homelessness.’

Then Ghaṭīkāra and Jotipāla went to the Buddha Kassapa, bowed and sat down to one side. Ghaṭīkāra said to the Buddha Kassapa, ‘Sir, this is the student Jotipāla, my dear friend. Please give him the going forth.’ And Jotipāla the student received the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence.

Not long after Jotipāla’s ordination, a fortnight later, the Buddha Kassapa—having stayed in Vebhaliṅga as long as he pleased—set out for Varanasi. Traveling stage by stage, he arrived at Varanasi, where he stayed near Varanasi, in the deer park at Isipatana.

King Kikī of Kāsi heard that he had arrived. He had the finest carriages harnessed. He then mounted a fine carriage and, along with other fine carriages, set out in full royal pomp from Varanasi to see the Buddha Kassapa. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached the Buddha Kassapa on foot. He bowed and sat down to one side. The Buddha educated, encouraged, fired up, and inspired him with a Dhamma talk. Then King Kikī said to the Buddha, ‘Sir, would the Buddha together with the mendicant Saṅgha please accept tomorrow’s meal from me?’ The Buddha Kassapa consented with silence.

Then, knowing that the Buddha had consented, King Kikī rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving.

And when the night had passed, King Kikī had delicious fresh and cooked foods prepared in his own home—soft saffron rice with the dark grains picked out, served with many soups and sauces. Then he had the Buddha informed of the time, saying, ‘Sir, it’s time. The meal is ready.’

Then Kassapa Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, went to the home of King Kikī, where he sat down on the seat spread out together with the Saṅgha of mendicants. Then King Kikī served and satisfied the mendicant Saṅgha headed by the Buddha with his own hands with delicious fresh and cooked foods. When the Buddha Kassapa had eaten and washed his hand and bowl, King Kikī took a low seat and sat to one side. There he said to the Buddha Kassapa, ‘Sir, would the Buddha please accept my invitation to reside in Varanasi for the rainy season? The Saṅgha will be looked after in the same style.’ ‘Enough, Great King. I have already accepted an invitation for the rains residence.’ For a second time … and a third time King Kikī said to the Buddha Kassapa, ‘Sir, would the Buddha please accept my invitation to reside in Varanasi for the rainy season? The Saṅgha will be looked after in the same style.’ ‘Enough, Great King. I have already accepted an invitation for the rains residence.’ Then King Kikī, thinking, ‘The Buddha does not accept my invitation to reside for the rains in Varanasi,’ became sad and upset. Then King Kikī said to the Buddha Kassapa, ‘Sir, do you have another supporter better than me?’

‘Great king, there is a market town named Vebhaliṅga, where there is a potter named Ghaṭīkāra. He is my chief supporter. Now, Great King, when you thought, “The Buddha does not accept my invitation to reside for the rains in Varanasi,” you became sad and upset. But Ghaṭīkāra doesn’t get upset, nor will he. Ghaṭīkāra has gone for refuge to the Buddha, the teaching, and the Saṅgha. He doesn’t kill living creatures, steal, commit sexual misconduct, lie, or consume intoxicants of beer, wine, and liquor. He has experiential confidence in the Buddha, the teaching, and the Saṅgha, and possesses the ethics loved by the noble ones. He is free of doubt regarding suffering, its origin, its cessation, and the practice that leads to its cessation. He eats in one part of the day; he’s chaste, ethical, and of good character. He has set aside gems and gold, and quit using gold and currency. He has put down the shovel and doesn’t dig the earth with his own hands. He takes what has crumbled off by a riverbank or been dug up by mice, and brings it back in a carrier. When he has made a pot, he says, “Anyone may leave bagged sesame, mung beans, or chickpeas here and take what they wish.” He provided for his blind old parents. And since he has ended the five lower fetters, Ghaṭīkāra will be reborn spontaneously and will become extinguished there, not liable to return from that world.

This one time, Great King, I was staying near the market town of Vebhaliṅga. Then I robed up in the morning and, taking my bowl and robe, went to the home of Ghaṭīkāra’s parents, where I said to them, “Excuse me, where has Bhaggava gone?” “Your supporter has gone out, sir. But take rice from the pot and sauce from the pan and eat.” So that’s what I did. And after eating I rose from my seat and left. Then Ghaṭīkāra went up to his parents and said, “Who took rice from the pot and sauce from the pan, ate it, and left?” “It was the Buddha Kassapa, my dear.” Then Ghaṭīkāra thought, “I’m so fortunate, so very fortunate, in that the Buddha Kassapa trusts me so much!” Then joy and happiness did not leave him for a fortnight, or his parents for a week.

Another time, Great King, I was staying near that same market town of Vebhaliṅga. Then I robed up in the morning and, taking my bowl and robe, went to the home of Ghaṭīkāra’s parents, where I said to them, “Excuse me, where has Bhaggava gone?” “Your supporter has gone out, sir. But take porridge from the pot and sauce from the pan and eat.” So that’s what I did. And after eating I rose from my seat and left. Then Ghaṭīkāra went up to his parents and said, “Who took porridge from the pot and sauce from the pan, ate it, and left?” “It was the Buddha Kassapa, my dear.” Then Ghaṭīkāra thought, “I’m so fortunate, so very fortunate, to be trusted so much by the Buddha Kassapa!” Then joy and happiness did not leave him for a fortnight, or his parents for a week.

Another time, Great King, I was staying near that same market town of Vebhaliṅga. Now at that time my hut leaked. So I addressed the mendicants, “Mendicants, go to Ghaṭīkāra’s home and find some grass.” When I said this, those mendicants said to me, “Sir, there’s no grass there, but his workshop has a grass roof.” “Then go to the workshop and strip the grass.” So that’s what they did. Then Ghaṭīkāra’s parents said to those mendicants, “Who’s stripping the grass from the workshop?” “It’s the mendicants, sister. The Buddha’s hut is leaking.” “Take it, sirs! Take it, dearest ones!” Then Ghaṭīkāra went up to his parents and said, “Who stripped the grass from the workshop?” “It was the mendicants, dear. It seems the Buddha’s hut is leaking.” Then Ghaṭīkāra thought, “I’m so fortunate, so very fortunate, to be trusted so much by the Buddha Kassapa!” Then joy and happiness did not leave him for a fortnight, or his parents for a week. Then the workshop remained with the atmosphere for a roof for the whole three months, but the heavens did not rain on it. And that, Great King, is what Ghaṭīkāra the potter is like.’ ‘Ghaṭīkāra the potter is fortunate, very fortunate, to be so trusted by the Buddha Kassapa.’

Then King Kikī sent around five hundred loads of rice, soft saffron rice, and suitable sauce to Ghaṭīkāra. Then one of the king’s men approached Ghaṭīkāra and said, ‘Sir, these five hundred loads of rice, soft saffron rice, and suitable sauce have been sent to you by King Kikī of Kāsi. Please accept them.’ ‘The king has many duties, and much to do. I have enough. Let this be for the king himself.’

Ānanda, you might think: ‘Surely the student Jotipāla must have been someone else at that time?’ But you should not see it like this. I myself was the student Jotipāla at that time.” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, Venerable Ānanda approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was wandering in the land of the Kurus together with a large Saṅgha of mendicants when he arrived at a town of the Kurus named Thullakoṭṭhika.

The brahmins and householders of Thullakoṭṭhika heard: “It seems the ascetic Gotama—a Sakyan, gone forth from a Sakyan family—has arrived at Thullakoṭṭhika, together with a large Saṅgha of mendicants. He has this good reputation: ‘That Blessed One is perfected, a fully awakened Buddha, accomplished in knowledge and conduct, holy, knower of the world, supreme guide for those fit for training, teacher of gods and humans, awakened, blessed.’ He has realized with his own insight this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—and he makes it known to others. He teaches Dhamma that’s good in the beginning, good in the middle, and good in the end, meaningful and well-phrased. And he reveals a spiritual practice that’s entirely full and pure. It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

Then the brahmins and householders of Thullakoṭṭhika went up to the Buddha. Before sitting down to one side, some bowed, some exchanged greetings and polite conversation, some held up their cupped palms toward the Buddha, some announced their name and clan, while some kept silent. When they were seated, the Buddha educated, encouraged, fired up, and inspired them with a Dhamma talk.

Now at that time a gentleman named Raṭṭhapāla, the son of the leading clan in Thullakoṭṭhika, was sitting in the assembly. He thought, “As I understand the Buddha’s teaching, it’s not easy for someone living at home to lead the spiritual life utterly full and pure, like a polished shell. Why don’t I shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from lay life to homelessness?”

Then, having approved and agreed with what the Buddha said, the brahmins and householders of Thullakoṭṭhika got up from their seat, bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on their right, before leaving.

Soon after they left, Raṭṭhapāla went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, as I understand the Buddha’s teaching, it’s not easy for someone living at home to lead the spiritual life utterly full and pure, like a polished shell. I wish to shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. Sir, may I receive the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence? May the Buddha please give me the going forth!” “But, Raṭṭhapāla, do you have your parents’ permission?” “No, sir.” “Raṭṭhapāla, Buddhas don’t give the going forth to the child of parents who haven’t given their permission.” “I’ll make sure, sir, to get my parents’ permission.”

Then Raṭṭhapāla rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha. Then he went to his parents and said, “Mum and dad, as I understand the Buddha’s teachings, it’s not easy for someone living at home to lead the spiritual life utterly full and pure, like a polished shell. I wish to shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. Please give me permission to go forth.” When he said this, Raṭṭhapāla’s parents said to him, “But, dear Raṭṭhapāla, you’re our only child. You’re dear to us and we love you. You’re pampered and raised in comfort. You know nothing of suffering. Even when you die we will lose you against our wishes. So how can we allow you to go forth while you’re still alive?” For a second time … For a third time, Raṭṭhapāla asked his parents for permission, but got the same reply. Then Raṭṭhapāla thought, “My parents don’t allow me to go forth.” He laid down right there on the bare ground, saying, “I’ll either die right here or go forth.” And he refused to eat, up to the seventh meal.

Then Raṭṭhapāla’s parents said to him, “Dear Raṭṭhapāla, you’re our only child. You’re dear to us and we love you. You’re pampered and raised in comfort. You know nothing of suffering. When you die we will lose you against our wishes. So how can we allow you to go forth from lay life to homelessness while you’re still living? Get up, Raṭṭhapāla! Eat, drink, and amuse yourself. While enjoying sensual pleasures, delight in making merit. We don’t allow you to go forth. When you die we will lose you against our wishes. So how can we allow you to go forth while you’re still alive?” When they said this, Raṭṭhapāla kept silent. For a second time, and a third time, Raṭṭhapāla’s parents made the same request.

And for a third time, Raṭṭhapāla kept silent. Raṭṭhapāla’s parents then went to see his friends. They told them of the situation and asked for their help.

Then Raṭṭhapāla’s friends went to him and said, “Our dear Raṭṭhapāla, you are your parents’ only child. You’re dear to them and they love you. You’re pampered and raised in comfort. You know nothing of suffering. When you die your parents will lose you against their wishes. So how can they allow you to go forth while you’re still alive? Get up, Raṭṭhapāla! Eat, drink, and amuse yourself. While enjoying sensual pleasures, delight in making merit. Your parents will not allow you to go forth. Even when you die your parents will lose you against their wishes. So how can they allow you to go forth while you’re still alive?” When they said this, Raṭṭhapāla kept silent. For a second time … For a third time, Raṭṭhapāla’s friends made the same request. And for a third time, Raṭṭhapāla kept silent.

Then Raṭṭhapāla’s friends went to his parents and said, “Mum and dad, Raṭṭhapāla is lying there on the bare ground saying: ‘I’ll either die right here or go forth.’ If you don’t allow him to go forth, he’ll die there. But if you do allow him to go forth, you’ll see him again afterwards. And if he doesn’t enjoy the renunciate life, where else will he have to go? He’ll come right back here. Please give Raṭṭhapāla permission to go forth.” “Then, dears, we give Raṭṭhapāla permission to go forth. But once gone forth he must visit his parents.” Then Raṭṭhapāla’s friends went to him and said, “Get up, Raṭṭhapāla! Your parents have given you permission to go forth from lay life to homelessness. But once gone forth you must visit your parents.”

Raṭṭhapāla got up and regained his strength. He went to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, I have my parents’ permission to go forth from the lay life to homelessness. May the Buddha please give me the going forth.”

And Raṭṭhapāla received the going forth, the ordination in the Buddha’s presence. Not long after Venerable Raṭṭhapāla’s ordination, a fortnight later, the Buddha—having stayed in Thullakoṭṭhika as long as he pleased—set out for Sāvatthī. Traveling stage by stage, he arrived at Sāvatthī, where he stayed in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery.

Then Venerable Raṭṭhapāla, living alone, withdrawn, diligent, keen, and resolute, soon realized the supreme culmination of the spiritual path in this very life. He lived having achieved with his own insight the goal for which gentlemen rightly go forth from the lay life to homelessness. He understood: “Rebirth is ended; the spiritual journey has been completed; what had to be done has been done; there is nothing further for this place.” And Venerable Raṭṭhapāla became one of the perfected.

Then he went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, I would like to visit my parents, if the Buddha allows it.” Then the Buddha focused on encompassing Raṭṭhapāla’s mind. When he knew that it was impossible for Raṭṭhapāla to resign the training and return to a lesser life, he said, “Please, Raṭṭhapāla, go at your convenience.”

And then Raṭṭhapāla rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right. Then he set his lodgings in order and, taking his bowl and robe, set out for Thullakoṭṭhika. Traveling stage by stage, he arrived at Thullakoṭṭhika, where he stayed in King Koravya’s deer range. Then Raṭṭhapāla robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, entered Thullakoṭṭhika for alms. Wandering indiscriminately for almsfood, he approached his own father’s house.

Now at that time Raṭṭhapāla’s father was having his hair dressed in the hall of the middle gate. He saw Raṭṭhapāla coming off in the distance and said, “Our dear and beloved only son was made to go forth by these shavelings, these fake ascetics!” And at his own father’s home Raṭṭhapāla received neither alms nor a polite refusal, but only abuse.

Now at that time a family bondservant wanted to throw away the previous night’s porridge. So Raṭṭhapāla said to her, “If that’s to be thrown away, sister, pour it here in my bowl.” As she was pouring the porridge into his bowl, she recognized the features of his hands, feet, and voice. She then went to his mother and said, “Please, madam, you should know this. Master Raṭṭhapāla has arrived.” “If you speak the truth, wench, I’ll make you a free woman!” Then Raṭṭhapāla’s mother went to his father and said, “Please householder, you should know this. It seems our son Raṭṭhapāla has arrived.”

Now at that time Raṭṭhapāla was eating last night’s porridge by a wall. Then Raṭṭhapāla’s father went up to him and said, “Dear Raṭṭhapāla! How can you be eating last night’s porridge? Why not go to your own home?” “Householder, how could those of us who have gone forth from the lay life to homelessness have a house? We are homeless, householder. I came to your house, but there I received neither alms nor a polite refusal, but only abuse.” “Come, dear Raṭṭhapāla, let’s go to the house.” “Enough, householder. My meal is finished for today.” “Well then, dear Raṭṭhapāla, please accept tomorrow’s meal from me.” Raṭṭhapāla consented with silence.

Then, knowing that Raṭṭhapāla had consented, his father went back to his own house. He made a heap of gold, both coined and uncoined, and hid it under mats. Then he addressed Raṭṭhapāla’s former wives, “Please, daughters-in-law, adorn yourselves in the way that our son Raṭṭhapāla found you most adorable.”

And when the night had passed Raṭṭhapāla’s father had delicious fresh and cooked foods prepared in his own home, and announced the time to the Venerable Raṭṭhapāla, saying, “Sir, it’s time. The meal is ready.”

Then Raṭṭhapāla robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, went to his father’s home, and sat down on the seat spread out. Raṭṭhapāla’s father, revealing the heap of gold, both coined and uncoined, said to him, “Dear Raṭṭhapāla, this is your maternal fortune. There’s another paternal fortune, and an ancestral one. You can both enjoy your wealth and make merit. Come, return to a lesser life, enjoy wealth, and make merit!” “If you’d follow my advice, householder, you’d have this heap of gold, both coined and uncoined, loaded on a cart and carried away to be dumped in the middle of the Ganges River. Why is that? Because this will bring you nothing but sorrow, lamentation, pain, sadness, and distress.”

Then Raṭṭhapāla’s former wives each clasped his feet and said, “What are they like, master, the nymphs for whom you lead the spiritual life?” “Sisters, I don’t lead the spiritual life for the sake of nymphs.” Saying, “Our master Raṭṭhapāla addresses us as sisters!” they fainted right away.

Then Raṭṭhapāla said to his father, “If there is food to be given, householder, please give it. But don’t harass me.” “Eat, dear Raṭṭhapāla. The meal is ready.” Then Raṭṭhapāla’s father served and satisfied Venerable Raṭṭhapāla with his own hands with delicious fresh and cooked foods. When he had eaten and washed his hand and bowl, he spoke this verse while standing right there:

“See this fancy puppet, a body built of sores, diseased, obsessed over, in which nothing lasts at all. See this fancy figure, with its gems and earrings; it is bones swathed in skin, made pretty by its clothes. Rouged feet and powdered face may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore. Hair in eight braids and eyeshadow may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore. A rotting body all adorned like a freshly painted makeup box may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore. The hunter laid his snare, but the deer didn’t spring the trap. I’ve eaten the bait and now I go, leaving the trapper to lament.”

Then Raṭṭhapāla, having spoke this verse while standing, went to King Koravya’s deer range and sat at the root of a tree for the day’s meditation.

Then King Koravya addressed his gamekeeper, “My good gamekeeper, tidy up the park of the deer range. We will go to see the scenery.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” replied the gamekeeper. While tidying the deer range he saw Raṭṭhapāla sitting in meditation. Seeing this, he went to the king, and said, “The deer range is tidy, Your Majesty. And the gentleman named Raṭṭhapāla, the son of the leading clan in Thullakoṭṭhika, of whom you have often spoken highly, is meditating there at the root of a tree.” “Well then, my good gamekeeper, that’s enough of the park for today. Now I shall pay homage to the worthy Raṭṭhapāla.”

And then King Koravya said, “Distribute the fresh and cooked foods that have been prepared there.” He had the finest carriages harnessed. Then he mounted a fine carriage and, along with other fine carriages, set out in full royal pomp from Thullakoṭṭhika to see Raṭṭhapāla. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached Raṭṭhapāla on foot, together with a group of eminent officials. They exchanged greetings, and, when the greetings and polite conversation were over, he stood to one side and said to Raṭṭhapāla: “Here, worthy Raṭṭhapāla, sit on this elephant rug.” “Enough, Great King, you sit on it. I’m sitting on my own seat.” So the king sat down on the seat spread out, and said:

“Worthy Raṭṭhapāla, there are these four kinds of decay. Because of these, some people shave off their hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. What four? Decay due to old age, decay due to sickness, decay of wealth, and decay of relatives.

And what is decay due to old age? It’s when someone is old, elderly, and senior, advanced in years, and has reached the final stage of life. They reflect: ‘I’m now old, elderly, and senior. I’m advanced in years and have reached the final stage of life. It’s not easy for me to acquire more wealth or to increase the wealth I’ve already acquired. Why don’t I shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness?’ So because of that decay due to old age they go forth. This is called decay due to old age. But worthy Raṭṭhapāla is now a youth, young, with pristine black hair, blessed with youth, in the prime of life. You have no decay due to old age. So what did you know or see or hear that made you go forth?

And what is decay due to sickness? It’s when someone is sick, suffering, gravely ill. They reflect: ‘I’m now sick, suffering, gravely ill. It’s not easy for me to acquire more wealth or to increase the wealth I’ve already acquired. Why don’t I go forth from the lay life to homelessness?’ So because of that decay due to sickness they go forth. This is called decay due to sickness. But worthy Raṭṭhapāla is now rarely ill or unwell. Your stomach digests well, being neither too hot nor too cold. You have no decay due to sickness. So what did you know or see or hear that made you go forth?

And what is decay of wealth? It’s when someone is rich, affluent, and wealthy. But gradually their wealth dwindles away. They reflect: ‘I used to be rich, affluent, and wealthy. But gradually my wealth has dwindled away. It’s not easy for me to acquire more wealth or to increase the wealth I’ve already acquired. Why don’t I go forth from the lay life to homelessness?’ So because of that decay of wealth they go forth. This is called decay of wealth. But worthy Raṭṭhapāla is the son of the leading clan here in Thullakoṭṭhika. You have no decay of wealth. So what did you know or see or hear that made you go forth?

And what is decay of relatives? It’s when someone has many friends and colleagues, relatives and kin. But gradually their relatives dwindle away. They reflect: ‘I used to have many friends and colleagues, relatives and kin. But gradually they’ve dwindled away. It’s not easy for me to acquire more wealth or to increase the wealth I’ve already acquired. Why don’t I shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness?’ So because of that decay of relatives they go forth. This is called decay of relatives. But worthy Raṭṭhapāla has many friends and colleagues, relatives and kin right here in Thullakoṭṭhika. You have no decay of relatives. So what did you know or see or hear that made you go forth?

There are these four kinds of decay. Because of these, some people shave off their hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. Worthy Raṭṭhapāla has none of these. So what did you know or see or hear that made you go forth?”

“Great king, the Blessed One who knows and sees, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha has taught these four summaries of the teaching for recitation. It was after knowing and seeing and hearing these that I went forth from the lay life to homelessness. What four?

‘The world is unstable and swept away.’ This is the first summary. ‘The world has no shelter and no savior.’ This is the second summary. ‘The world has no owner—you must leave it all behind and pass on.’ This is the third summary. ‘The world is wanting, insatiable, the slave of craving.’ This is the fourth summary.

The Blessed One who knows and sees, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha taught these four summaries of the teaching. It was after knowing and seeing and hearing these that I went forth from the lay life to homelessness.”

“‘The world is unstable and swept away.’ So the worthy Raṭṭhapāla said. How should I see the meaning of this statement?” “What do you think, Great King? When you were twenty or twenty-five years of age, were you well-versed at riding elephants, horses, and chariots, and at archery and swordsmanship? Were you strong in thigh and arm, capable, and battle-hardened?” “I was, worthy Raṭṭhapāla. Sometimes it seems as if I had superpowers then. I don’t see anyone who could have equaled me in strength.” “What do you think, Great King? These days are you just as strong in thigh and arm, capable, and battle-hardened?” “No, worthy Raṭṭhapāla. For now I am old, elderly, and senior, I’m advanced in years and have reached the final stage of life. I am eighty years old. Sometimes I intend to step in one place, but my foot goes somewhere else.” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘The world is unstable and swept away.’” “It’s incredible, worthy Raṭṭhapāla, it’s amazing, how well said this was by the Buddha. For the world is indeed unstable and swept away.

In this royal court you can find divisions of elephants, cavalry, chariots, and infantry. They will serve to defend us from any threats. Yet you said: ‘The world has no shelter and no savior.’ How should I see the meaning of this statement?” “What do you think, Great King? Do you have any chronic ailments?” “Yes, I do. Sometimes my friends and colleagues, relatives and kin surround me, thinking: ‘Now the king will die! Now the king will die!’” “What do you think, Great King? Can you get your friends and colleagues, relatives and kin to help: ‘Please, my dear friends and colleagues, relatives and kin, all of you here share my pain so that I may feel less pain.’ Or must you alone feel that pain?” “I can’t get my friends to share my pain. Rather, I alone must feel it.” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘The world has no shelter and no savior.’” “It’s incredible, worthy Raṭṭhapāla, it’s amazing, how well said this was by the Buddha. For the world indeed has no shelter and no savior.

In this royal court you can find abundant gold, both coined and uncoined, stored above and below ground. Yet you said: ‘The world has no owner—you must leave it all behind and pass on.’ How should I see the meaning of this statement?” “What do you think, Great King? These days you amuse yourself, supplied and provided with the five kinds of sensual stimulation. But is there any way to ensure that in the next life you will continue to amuse yourself in the same way, supplied and provided with the same five kinds of sensual stimulation? Or will others make use of this property, while you pass on according to your deeds?” “There’s no way to ensure that I will continue to amuse myself in the same way. Rather, others will take over this property, while I pass on according to my deeds.” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘The world has no owner—you must leave it all behind and pass on.’” “It’s incredible, worthy Raṭṭhapāla, it’s amazing, how well said this was by the Buddha. For the world indeed has no owner—you must leave it all behind and pass on.

You also said this: ‘The world is wanting, insatiable, the slave of craving.’ How should I see the meaning of this statement?” “What do you think, Great King? Do you reign over the prosperous land of Kuru?” “Indeed I do.” “What do you think, Great King? Suppose a trustworthy and dependable man were to come from the east. He’d approach you and say: ‘Please, Great King, you should know this. I come from the east. There I saw a large country that is successful and prosperous, populous and full of people. They have many divisions of elephants, cavalry, chariots, and infantry. And there’s plenty of money and grain, plenty of gold, coined and uncoined, worked and unworked, and plenty of women for the taking. With your current forces you can conquer it. Conquer it, Great King!’ What would you do?” “I would conquer it and reign over it.” “What do you think, Great King? Suppose a trustworthy and dependable man were to come from the west, north, south, or from over the ocean. He’d approach you and say the same thing. What would you do?” “I would conquer it and reign over it.” “This is what the Buddha was referring to when he said: ‘The world is wanting, insatiable, the slave of craving.’ And it was after knowing and seeing and hearing this that I went forth from the lay life to homelessness.” “It’s incredible, worthy Raṭṭhapāla, it’s amazing, how well said this was by the Buddha. For the world is indeed wanting, insatiable, the slave of craving.”

That is what Venerable Raṭṭhapāla said. Then he went on to say: “I see rich humans in the world who, because of delusion, give not <j>the wealth they’ve earned. Greedily, they hoard their riches, yearning for ever more sensual pleasures. A king who conquered the earth by force, ruling the land from sea to sea, unsatisfied with the near shore of the ocean, would still yearn for the further shore. Not just the king, but others too, reach death not rid of craving. They leave the body still wanting, for in this world sensual pleasures never satisfy. Relatives lament, their hair disheveled, saying ‘Ah! Alas! They’re not immortal!’ They take out the body wrapped in a shroud, heap up a pyre, and burn it there. It’s poked with stakes while being burnt, in just a single cloth, all wealth gone. Relatives, friends, and companions can’t help you when you’re dying. Heirs take your riches, while beings fare on according to their deeds. Riches don’t follow you when you die; nor do children, wife, wealth, nor kingdom. Longevity isn’t gained by riches, nor does wealth banish old age; for the attentive say this life is short, it’s perishable and not eternal. The rich and the poor feel its touch; the fool and the attentive one feel it too. But the fool lies stricken by their own folly, while the attentive don’t tremble at the touch. Therefore wisdom’s much better than wealth, since by wisdom <j>you reach consummation in this life. But if because of delusion <j>you don’t reach consummation, you’ll do evil deeds in life after life. One who enters a womb and the world beyond, will transmigrate from one life to the next. While someone of little wisdom, <j>placing faith in them, also enters a womb and the world beyond. As a bandit caught in a window is punished for his own bad deeds; so after departing, in the world beyond, people are punished for their own bad deeds. Sensual pleasures are diverse, sweet, delightful; appearing in disguise they disturb the mind. Seeing danger in sensual stimulations, I went forth, O King. As fruit falls from a tree, so the sons of Manu fall, young and old, when the body breaks up. Seeing this, too, I went forth, O King; it’s a sure bet that the ascetic life is better.”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Mithilā in the Maghadeva Mango Grove.

Then the Buddha smiled at a certain spot. Then Venerable Ānanda thought, “What is the cause, what is the reason why the Buddha smiled? Realized Ones do not smile for no reason.” So Ānanda arranged his robe over one shoulder, raised his cupped palms toward the Buddha, and said, “What is the cause, what is the reason why the Buddha smiled? Realized Ones do not smile for no reason.”

“Once upon a time, Ānanda, right here in Mithilā there was a just and principled king named Maghadeva, a great king who stood by his duty. He justly treated brahmins and householders, and people of town and country. And he observed the sabbath on the fourteenth, fifteenth, and eighth of the fortnight.

Then, after many years, many hundred years, many thousand years had passed, King Maghadeva addressed his barber, ‘My dear barber, when you see grey hairs growing on my head, please tell me.’ ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ replied the barber. When many thousand years had passed, the barber saw grey hairs growing on the king’s head. He said to the king, ‘The messengers of the gods have shown themselves to you. Grey hairs can be seen growing on your head.’ ‘Well then, my dear barber, carefully pull them out with tweezers and place them in my cupped hands.’ ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ replied the barber, and he did as the king said. The king gave the barber a prize village, then summoned the crown prince and said, ‘Dear prince, the messengers of the gods have shown themselves to me. Grey hairs can be seen growing on my head. I have enjoyed human pleasures. Now it is time to seek heavenly pleasures. Come, dear prince, rule the realm. I shall shave off my hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. For dear prince, you too will one day see grey hairs growing on your head. When this happens, after giving a prize village to the barber and carefully instructing the crown prince in kingship, you should shave off your hair and beard, dress in ocher robes, and go forth from the lay life to homelessness. Keep up this good practice that I have founded. Do not be my final man. When a pair of men are living, the one who breaks such good practice is their final man. Therefore I say to you, “Keep up this good practice that I have founded. Do not be my final man.”’

And so, after giving a prize village to the barber and carefully instructing the crown prince in kingship, King Maghadeva shaved off his hair and beard, dressed in ocher robes, and went forth from the lay life to homelessness here in this mango grove. He meditated spreading a heart full of love to one direction, and to the second, and to the third, and to the fourth. In the same way above, below, across, everywhere, all around, he spread a heart full of love to the whole world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will. He meditated spreading a heart full of compassion … rejoicing … equanimity to one direction, and to the second, and to the third, and to the fourth. In the same way above, below, across, everywhere, all around, he spread a heart full of equanimity to the whole world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will.

For 84,000 years King Maghadeva played games as a child, for 84,000 years he acted as viceroy, for 84,000 years he ruled the realm, and for 84,000 years he led the spiritual life after going forth here in this mango grove. And having developed the four divine meditations, when his body broke up, after death, he was reborn in a good place, a realm of divinity.

Then, after many years, many hundred years, many thousand years had passed, King Maghadeva’s son addressed his barber, ‘My dear barber, when you see grey hairs growing on my head, please tell me.’ And all unfolded as in the case of his father.

And having developed the four divine meditations, when his body broke up, after death, Maghadeva’s son was reborn in a good place, a realm of divinity.

And a lineage of 84,000 kings, sons of sons of King Maghadeva, shaved off their hair and beard, dressed in ocher robes, and went forth from the lay life to homelessness here in this mango grove. They meditated spreading a heart full of love …

compassion … rejoicing … equanimity to one direction, and to the second, and to the third, and to the fourth. In the same way above, below, across, everywhere, all around, they spread a heart full of equanimity to the whole world—abundant, expansive, limitless, free of enmity and ill will. For 84,000 years they played games as a child, for 84,000 years they acted as viceroy, for 84,000 years they ruled the realm, and for 84,000 years they led the spiritual life after going forth here in this mango grove. And having developed the four divine meditations, when their bodies broke up, after death, they were reborn in a good place, a realm of divinity.

Nimi was the last of those kings, a just and principled king, a great king who stood by his duty. He justly treated brahmins and householders, and people of town and country. And he observed the sabbath on the fourteenth, fifteenth, and eighth of the fortnight.

Once upon a time, Ānanda, while the gods of the thirty-three were sitting together in the Hall of Clear Right, this discussion came up among them: ‘The people of Videha are so fortunate, so very fortunate to have Nimi as their king. He is a just and principled king, a great king who stands by his duty. He justly treats brahmins and householders, and people of town and country. And he observes the sabbath on the fourteenth, fifteenth, and eighth of the fortnight.’ Then Sakka, lord of gods, addressed the gods of the thirty-three, ‘Good fellows, would you like to see King Nimi?’ ‘We would.’ Now at that time it was the fifteenth day sabbath, and King Nimi had bathed his head and was sitting upstairs in the royal longhouse to observe the sabbath. Then, as easily as a strong person would extend or contract their arm, Sakka vanished from the thirty-three gods and reappeared in front of King Nimi. He said to the king, ‘You’re fortunate, Great King, so very fortunate. The gods of the thirty-three were sitting together in the Hall of Clear Right, where they were singing your praises. They would like to see you. I shall send a chariot harnessed with a thousand thoroughbreds for you, Great King. Mount the heavenly chariot, Great King, without wavering!’ King Nimi consented with silence. Then, knowing that the king had consented, as easily as a strong person would extend or contract their arm, Sakka vanished from King Nimi and reappeared among the gods of the thirty-three.

Then Sakka, lord of gods, addressed his chariot handler Mātali, ‘Come, dear Mātali, harness the chariot with a thousand thoroughbreds. Then go to King Nimi and say, “Great king, this chariot has been sent for you by Sakka, lord of gods. Mount the heavenly chariot, Great King, without wavering!”’ ‘Yes, lord,’ replied Mātali. He did as Sakka asked, and said to the king, ‘Great king, this chariot has been sent for you by Sakka, lord of gods. Mount the heavenly chariot, Great King, without wavering! But which way should we go—the way of those who experience the result of bad deeds, or the way of those who experience the result of good deeds?’ ‘Take me both ways, Mātali.’

Mātali brought King Nimi to the Hall of Clear Right. Sakka saw King Nimi coming off in the distance, and said to him: ‘Come, Great King! Welcome, Great King! The gods of the thirty-three who wanted to see you were sitting together in the Hall of Clear Right, where they were singing your praises. The gods of the thirty-three would like to see you. Enjoy heavenly glory among the gods!’ ‘Enough, good fellow. Send me back to Mithilā right away. That way I shall justly treat brahmins and householders, and people of town and country. And I shall observe the sabbath on the fourteenth, fifteenth, and eighth of the fortnight.’

Then Sakka, lord of gods, addressed his chariot handler Mātali, ‘Come, dear Mātali, harness the chariot with a thousand thoroughbreds and send King Nimi back to Mithilā right away.’ ‘Yes, lord,’ replied Mātali, and did as Sakka asked. And there King Nimi justly treated his people, and observed the sabbath. Then, after many years, many hundred years, many thousand years had passed, King Nimi addressed his barber, ‘My dear barber, when you see grey hairs growing on my head, please tell me.’ And all unfolded as before.

And having developed the four divine meditations, when his body broke up, after death, King Nimi was reborn in a good place, a realm of divinity.

But King Nimi had a son named Kaḷāra Janaka. He didn’t go forth from the lay life to homelessness. He broke that good practice. He was their final man.

Ānanda, you might think, ‘Surely King Maghadeva, by whom that good practice was founded, must have been someone else at that time?’ But you should not see it like this. I myself was King Maghadeva at that time. I was the one who founded that good practice, which was kept up by those who came after. But that good practice doesn’t lead to disillusionment, dispassion, cessation, peace, insight, awakening, and extinguishment. It only leads as far as rebirth in the realm of divinity. But now I have founded a good practice that does lead to disillusionment, dispassion, cessation, peace, insight, awakening, and extinguishment. And what is that good practice? It is simply this noble eightfold path, that is: right view, right purpose, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right immersion. This is the good practice I have now founded that leads to disillusionment, dispassion, cessation, peace, insight, awakening, and extinguishment. Ānanda, I say to you: ‘You all should keep up this good practice that I have founded. Do not be my final men.’ When a pair of men are living, the one who breaks such good practice is their final man. Ānanda, I say to you: ‘You all should keep up this good practice that I have founded. Do not be my final men.’” That is what the Buddha said. Satisfied, Venerable Ānanda approved what the Buddha said.

So I have heard. At one time Venerable Mahākaccāna was staying near Madhurā in the Nut Grass Grove.

King Avantiputta of Madhurā heard, “It seems the ascetic Kaccāna is staying near Madhurā in the Nut Grass Grove. He has this good reputation: ‘He is astute, competent, intelligent, learned, a brilliant speaker, eloquent, mature, a perfected one.’ It’s good to see such perfected ones.”

And then King Avantiputta had the finest carriages harnessed. He mounted a fine carriage and, along with other fine carriages, set out in full royal pomp from Madhurā to see Mahākaccāna. He went by carriage as far as the terrain allowed, then descended and approached Mahākaccāna on foot. They exchanged greetings, and when the greetings and polite conversation were over, the king sat down to one side and said to Mahākaccāna:

“Worthy Kaccāna, the brahmins say: ‘Only brahmins are the best class; other classes are inferior. Only brahmins are the light class; other classes are dark. Only brahmins are purified, not others. Only brahmins are the the Divinity’s bosom sons, born from his mouth, born of the Divinity, created by the Divinity, heirs of the Divinity.’ What does the worthy Kaccāna have to say about this?”

“Great king, that’s just hearsay in the world. And here’s a way to understand that it’s just hearsay in the world. What do you think, Great King? Suppose an aristocrat prospers in money, grain, silver, or gold. Wouldn’t there be aristocrats, brahmins, peasants, and menials who would get up before him and go to bed after him, and be obliging, behaving nicely and speaking politely?” “There would, worthy Kaccāna.” “What do you think, Great King? Suppose a brahmin … a peasant … a menial prospers in money, grain, silver, or gold. Wouldn’t there be menials, aristocrats, brahmins, and peasants who would get up before him and go to bed after him, and be obliging, behaving nicely and speaking politely?” “There would, worthy Kaccāna.” “What do you think, Great King? If this is so, are the four classes equal or not? Or how do you see this?” “Certainly, worthy Kaccāna, in this case these four classes are equal. I can’t see any difference between them.” “And here’s another way to understand that the claims of the brahmins are just hearsay in the world.

What do you think, Great King? Take an aristocrat who kills living creatures, steals, and commits sexual misconduct; uses speech that’s false, backbiting, harsh, or nonsensical; and is covetous, malicious, and has wrong view. When their body breaks up, after death, would they be reborn in a place of loss, a bad place, the underworld, hell, or not? Or how do you see this?” “Such an aristocrat would be reborn in a bad place. That’s what I think, but I’ve also heard it from the perfected ones.” “Good, good, Great King! It’s good that you think so, and it’s good that you’ve heard it from the perfected ones. What do you think, Great King? Take a brahmin … a peasant … a menial who kills living creatures, steals, and commits sexual misconduct; uses speech that’s false, backbiting, harsh, or nonsensical; and is covetous, malicious, and has wrong view. When their body breaks up, after death, would they be reborn in a place of loss, a bad place, the underworld, hell, or not? Or how do you see this?” “Such a brahmin, peasant, or menial would be reborn in a bad place. That’s what I think, but I’ve also heard it from the perfected ones.” “Good, good, Great King! It’s good that you think so, and it’s good that you’ve heard it from the perfected ones. What do you think, Great King? If this is so, are the four classes equal or not? Or how do you see this?” “Certainly, worthy Kaccāna, in this case these four classes are equal. I can’t see any difference between them.” “And here’s another way to understand that the claims of the brahmins are just hearsay in the world.

What do you think, Great King? Take an aristocrat who doesn’t kill living creatures, steal, or commit sexual misconduct. They don’t use speech that’s false, backbiting, harsh, or nonsensical. And they’re contented, kind-hearted, with right view. When their body breaks up, after death, would they be reborn in a good place, a heavenly realm, or not? Or how do you see this?” “Such an aristocrat would be reborn in a good place. That’s what I think, but I’ve also heard it from the perfected ones.” “Good, good, Great King! It’s good that you think so, and it’s good that you’ve heard it from the perfected ones. What do you think, Great King? Take a brahmin, peasant, or menial who doesn’t kill living creatures, steal, or commit sexual misconduct. They don’t use speech that’s false, backbiting, harsh, or nonsensical. And they’re contented, kind-hearted, with right view. When their body breaks up, after death, would they be reborn in a good place, a heavenly realm, or not? Or how do you see this?” “Such a brahmin, peasant, or menial would be reborn in a good place. That’s what I think, but I’ve also heard it from the perfected ones.” “Good, good, Great King! It’s good that you think so, and it’s good that you’ve heard it from the perfected ones. What do you think, Great King? If this is so, are the four classes equal or not? Or how do you see this?” “Certainly, worthy Kaccāna, in this case these four classes are equal. I can’t see any difference between them.” “And here’s another way to understand that the claims of the brahmins are just hearsay in the world.

What do you think, Great King? Take an aristocrat who breaks into houses, plunders wealth, steals from isolated buildings, commits highway robbery, and commits adultery. Suppose your men arrest him and present him to you, saying: ‘Your Majesty, this man is a bandit, a criminal. Punish him as you will.’ What would you do to him?” “I would have him executed, fined, or banished, or dealt with as befits the crime. Why is that? Because he’s lost his former status as an aristocrat, and is just reckoned as a bandit.” “What do you think, Great King? Take a brahmin, peasant, or menial who breaks into houses, plunders wealth, steals from isolated buildings, commits highway robbery, and commits adultery. Suppose your men arrest him and present him to you, saying: ‘Your Majesty, this man is a bandit, a criminal. Punish him as you will.’ What would you do to him?” “I would have him executed, fined, or banished, or dealt with as befits the crime. Why is that? Because he’s lost his former status as a brahmin, peasant, or menial, and is just reckoned as a bandit.” “What do you think, Great King? If this is so, are the four classes equal or not? Or how do you see this?” “Certainly, worthy Kaccāna, in this case these four classes are equal. I can’t see any difference between them.” “And here’s another way to understand that the claims of the brahmins are just hearsay in the world.

What do you think, Great King? Take an aristocrat who shaves off their hair and beard, dresses in ocher robes, and goes forth from the lay life to homelessness. They abstain from killing living creatures, stealing, and lying. They abstain from eating at night, eat in one part of the day, and are chaste, ethical, and of good character. How would you treat them?” “I would bow to them, rise in their presence, or offer them a seat. I’d invite them to accept robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick. And I’d organize their lawful guarding and protection. Why is that? Because they’ve lost their former status as an aristocrat, and are just reckoned as an ascetic.” “What do you think, Great King? Take a brahmin, peasant, or menial who shaves off their hair and beard, dresses in ocher robes, and goes forth from the lay life to homelessness. They abstain from killing living creatures, stealing, and lying. They abstain from eating at night, eat in one part of the day, and are chaste, ethical, and of good character. How would you treat them?” “I would bow to them, rise in their presence, or offer them a seat. I’d invite them to accept robes, almsfood, lodgings, and medicines and supplies for the sick. And I’d organize their lawful guarding and protection. Why is that? Because they’ve lost their former status as a brahmin, peasant, or menial, and are just reckoned as an ascetic.” “What do you think, Great King? If this is so, are the four classes equal or not? Or how do you see this?” “Certainly, worthy Kaccāna, in this case these four classes are equal. I can’t see any difference between them.” “This is another way to understand that this is just hearsay in the world: ‘Only brahmins are the best class; other classes are inferior. Only brahmins are the light class; other classes are dark. Only brahmins are purified, not others. Only brahmins are the Divinity’s bosom sons, born from his mouth, born of the Divinity, created by the Divinity, heirs of the Divinity.’”

When he had spoken, King Avantiputta of Madhurā said to Mahākaccāna, “Excellent, worthy Kaccāna! Excellent! As if he were righting the overturned, or revealing the hidden, or pointing out the path to the lost, or lighting a lamp in the dark so people with clear eyes can see what’s there, the worthy Kaccāna has made the teaching clear in many ways. I go for refuge to the worthy Kaccāna, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the worthy Kaccāna remember me as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life.” “Great king, don’t go for refuge to me. You should go for refuge to that same Blessed One to whom I have gone for refuge.” “But where is that Blessed One at present, the perfected one, the fully awakened Buddha?” “Great king, the Buddha has already become fully quenched.”

“Worthy Kaccāna, if I heard that the Buddha was within ten leagues, or twenty, or even up to a hundred leagues away, I’d go a hundred leagues to see him. But since the Buddha has become fully quenched, I go for refuge to that fully quenched Buddha, to the teaching, and to the mendicant Saṅgha. From this day forth, may the worthy Kaccāna remember me as a lay follower who has gone for refuge for life.”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the land of the Bhaggas at Crocodile’s Bellow, in the deer park at Bhesakaḷā’s Wood.

Now at that time a new stilt longhouse named Pink Lotus had recently been constructed for Prince Bodhi. It had not yet been occupied by an ascetic or brahmin or any human at all.

Then Prince Bodhi addressed the student Sañjikāputta, “Please, dear Sañjikāputta, go to the Buddha, and in my name bow with your head to his feet. Ask him if he is healthy and well, nimble, strong, and living comfortably. And then ask him whether he would accept tomorrow’s meal from me together with the mendicant Saṅgha.”

“Yes, worthy sir,” Sañjikāputta replied. He did as Prince Bodhi asked, and the Buddha consented with silence. Then, knowing that the Buddha had consented, Sañjikāputta rose from his seat, went to Prince Bodhi, and said, “I gave your message to the worthy Gotama, and he accepted.”

And when the night had passed Prince Bodhi had delicious fresh and cooked foods prepared in his own home. He also had the Pink Lotus longhouse spread with white cloth down to the last step of the staircase. Then he said to Sañjikāputta, “Please, dear Sañjikāputta, go to the Buddha, and announce the time, saying, ‘Sir, it’s time. The meal is ready.’” “Yes, worthy sir,” Sañjikāputta replied, and he did as he was asked.

Then the Buddha robed up in the morning and, taking his bowl and robe, went to Prince Bodhi’s home.

Now at that time Prince Bodhi was standing outside the gates waiting for the Buddha. Seeing the Buddha coming off in the distance, he went out to greet him. After bowing and inviting the Buddha to go first, he approached the Pink Lotus longhouse. But the Buddha stopped by the last step of the staircase. Then Prince Bodhi said to him, “Sir, let the Blessed One ascend on the cloth! Let the Holy One ascend on the cloth! It will be for my lasting welfare and happiness.” But when he said this, the Buddha kept silent. For a second time … and a third time, Prince Bodhi said to him, “Sir, let the Blessed One ascend on the cloth! Let the Holy One ascend on the cloth! It will be for my lasting welfare and happiness.” Then the Buddha glanced at Venerable Ānanda. So Ānanda said to Prince Bodhi, “Fold up the cloth, Prince. The Buddha will not step upon white cloth. The Realized One has sympathy for future generations.”

So Prince Bodhi had the cloth folded up and the seats spread out upstairs in the longhouse. Then the Buddha ascended the longhouse and sat on the seats spread out together with the Saṅgha of mendicants.

Then Prince Bodhi served and satisfied the mendicant Saṅgha headed by the Buddha with his own hands with delicious fresh and cooked foods. When the Buddha had eaten and washed his hand and bowl, Prince Bodhi took a low seat, sat to one side, and said to him, “Sir, this is what I think: ‘Pleasure is not gained through pleasure; pleasure is gained through pain.’”

“Prince, before my awakening—when I was still unawakened but intent on awakening—I too thought, ‘Pleasure is not gained through pleasure; pleasure is gained through pain.’

Some time later, while still with pristine black hair, blessed with youth, in the prime of life—though my mother and father wished otherwise, weeping with tearful faces—I shaved off my hair and beard, dressed in ocher robes, and went forth from the lay life to homelessness. Once I had gone forth I set out to discover what is skillful, seeking the supreme state of sublime peace. I approached Āḷāra Kālāma and said to him, ‘Reverend Kālāma, I wish to lead the spiritual life in this teaching and training.’ Āḷāra Kālāma replied, ‘Stay, venerable. This teaching is such that a sensible person can soon realize their own denomination with their own insight and live having achieved it.’ I quickly memorized that teaching. As far as lip-recital and verbal repetition went, I spoke the doctrine of knowledge, the elder doctrine. I claimed to know and see, and so did others. Then it occurred to me, ‘It is not solely by mere faith that Āḷāra Kālāma declares: “I realize this teaching with my own insight, and live having achieved it.” Surely he meditates knowing and seeing this teaching.’